Three days later, sowhere out at sea—there it stood. A magnificent city rising from the waves: the world-renowned shipbuilding capital, Water 7.
Also known as the City of Water or the Seven Isles of Water, Water 7 was a thriving island tropolis where shipbuilding reigned supre. Ho to hundreds of thousands, its citizens had built the city atop a subrged foundation, forever at the rcy of Aqua Laguna, the "Gods of Water," whose tidal surges and flooding were the city's greatest threats.
Water 7 was dotted with dozens of shipyards that had built and repaired so of the most famous ships in history. Even the Oro Jackson, the legendary vessel of the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger, was crafted here. And over 800 years ago, it was the shipwrights of this very island who constructed Pluton, the ancient superweapon, one of the three Ancient Weapons, capable of obliterating an island with a single shot.
The wrath of the Aqua Laguna combined with the pirate rampages of the Great Pirate Era had once brought Water 7 to the brink of ruin. But everything changed when the fabled shipwright Tom built the sea train Puffing Tom, rekindling hope and prosperity for the island.
Now, with its proximity to Enies Lobby and its booming shipbuilding industry, Water 7 had beco a hub for pirates, rchants, and wanderers alike. That made it the perfect place to cash in gold, and perhaps more importantly, hire the fad Shipwright No. 730 to repair and upgrade the Chris into sothing far more formidable.
"There it is, Water 7! What a sight!"
From the deck, Arlan exclaid as he took in the shimring city on the horizon. And he wasn't the only one awestruck, most of the crew had gathered on deck, gazing wide-eyed at the city rising from the sea.
"Is that thing actually built on the water?" Oliver asked, stunned.
"Word is it's constructed atop a sunken foundation beneath the sea."
Resting his arms along the railing, Aeridar closed his eyes, letting the ocean breeze wash over him.
"Amazing..." Millie and Mina breathed in unison.
As the Chris sailed closer, the city lood ever larger, revealing its layered canals and towering structures.
TOOT TOOT—
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM...
A loud whistle echoed through the air. Then ca a rumble, a rhythmic thunder that drew everyone's attention. A long, snake-like train appeared in the distance... gliding across the ocean's surface.
"No way!"
"Is that... a train? On the sea?"
"Soone pinch . Am I dreaming?"
"A sea train?!"
The crew of the Chris stood frozen, mouths agape as the Puffing Tom chugged along the waves toward Water 7.
Suddenly, the lookout shouted down from the crow's nest:
"Captain! There's sothing strange near the port, looks like... a bunch of identical ships!"
"Identical ships?" Aeridar frowned.
A mont later, the lookout's voice trembled.
"It's... it's the Navy! A full fleet of Marine ships!"
"The Marines?! That can't be!"
Everyone rushed to grab their binoculars. Sure enough, clustered around the northern port of Water 7 were over a dozen warships, cannons bristling along their decks, sails hoisting the familiar seagull insignia of the Marines.
"Captain, should we dock at a different port?" Arlan asked, his brow furrowed.
With that kind of firepower, even a long-range barrage could spell disaster.
But Aeridar remained calm, casting a sidelong glance at his first mate.
"No need. I'm one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea. The Marines have no right to attack us."
"That's right! The captain's one of the new Warlords!"
"We're legally sanctioned pirates now, untouchable."
"Technically, we're allies of the governnt."
The crew relaxed at the reminder. As a Warlord of the Sea, Aeridar, and by extension, his crew, had their bounties frozen. Their past cris were swept under the rug by the World Governnt. The Marines were not authorized to pursue them.
...
Water 7, Northern Port.
More than a dozen Marine warships lay anchored here. One of them was massive, easily dwarfing the Chris in both length and girth. asuring over 150 ters long and nearly 50 ters wide, it was a custom Navy dreadnought: built from the finest timber, plated with steel armor, towering five decks high, crewed by 1,500 n, and ard with over 100 cannons—including more than ten 32-pound behemoth guns.
Even within the Navy, such ships were exceedingly rare.
Up in the lookout tower, a Marine scout scanned the horizon with a telescope.
Suddenly, he spotted a ship headed straight for them—huge, sleek, and unmistakably pirate. A black sail emblazoned with a white skull, crossed sword and dagger beneath it, golden rings hanging from the hilt guards, and strange symbols painted across the flag.
"Sir! Pirate vessel approaching! Heading straight for us!" the scout shouted down to the deck below.
On the main deck, a middle-aged officer in a black-and-white checkered suit rose from his seat. A long sword hung at his side, and a Justice coat draped over his shoulders. Frowning, he took the telescope from his adjutant.
One glance at the ship told him everything.
"Black background, white skull... crossed sword and dagger with golden rings on the handles... and so weird writing. That flag... I know it from sowhere," he murmured, stroking his chin.
Tap tap tap... tap tap tap tap...
Footsteps echoed behind him.
"Scary stuff~ So he's here too, huh?" ca a drawling voice, half amused, half bored.
"Monster or not... I think I'll go say hi."
In the blink of an eye, the man vanished in a flash of brilliant yellow light, streaking across the sea like a lightning bolt.
"Kiz—ah... still as fast as ever," the middle-aged officer muttered, barely finishing the na before the man had already vanished. All that remained was a streak of golden light darting across the waves.
...
Aboard the Chris.
That sa light now approached, blinding and radiant.
"Too bright!"
"I can't see!"
"What the hell is that?!"
The crew shielded their eyes, squinting against the oncoming brilliance.
Aeridar's brow twitched.
"Captain... you recognize that?" Arlan asked, eyes narrowed.
Then, in a flash, the light vanished, leaving behind a tall, lean man standing dead center on the deck.
He wore a striped yellow-and-white suit, a Justice coat with gold epaulets, and a pair of dark sunglasses. His curly black hair frad a bearded face, and a cigarette hung lazily from his lips, curled into an almost comical smirk.
"Ne~ sorry about that," he said in a slow, exaggerated drawl. "Didn't an to blind anyone."
And with that single sentence, there was no longer any doubt.
He was here.
Admiral Kizaru.
-------
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to my patreon ——— patreon(.)com/JuanFiction [remove the parentheses ( )]
There are over 100 advance Chapters available for you!
User Comments
0 comments from readers